


One Kiss, Found Missing, Returned with Interest

by Word_Devourer



Series: Marichat:  You want it?  You got it. [2]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste: Lightweight for love, Alya Cesaire gets something right (A rarity in my writing), F/M, Marichat, Marinette maintains a tenuous lead on the 'Making each other blush' tally, Tenuous only because Chat Noir hasn't been able to get his feet under him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-10-27 16:49:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17770568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Word_Devourer/pseuds/Word_Devourer
Summary: Chat Noir is outclassed.  Marinette seems immune to his flirting, but he is far from immune to hers.He comes up with a plan, though, when she sends him home one night a shivering wreck.It's time to return fire.First, though, he'll have to make it through the week.





	1. Adrien Agreste: Lightweight For Love

**Author's Note:**

> It is not necessary to have read the previous fic to understand this one, but a few references to the previous plot might not make sense if you haven't.
> 
> Fun fact, just under 40% of the comments on the last chapter of the previous fic expressed a desire for more.  
> I can supply.

Chat Noir, a little unsteadily, turned to go.

She managed to slip a hand around his tail as he was about to jump, and she staggered from the force of his movement.

He turned to face her, and she smiled.

“I think you’re forgetting something,”

“Forgetting something?” he said.  He seemed to consider for a second.

He looked at her almost sheepishly.

“I said goodnight, didn’t I?”

“You did, yes…”

“I have everything I came with…”

“You do…”

He stared at her, visibly scrambling for an answer.

“Chat Noir,” she said, stepping a bit closer, “I swear.  A villain tries to tear you to pieces and you just make jokes…” She tapped a finger on his collarbone, disproportionately pleased by the blazing red his face had turned, “and yet as soon as I get close…”

“Ahhhah,” he said, seemingly unable to muster anything more.

She leaned in close, standing on her toes to get her less than an inch from his.  “Well,” she said, stepping back, “let me know if you remember.”  She was still smiling.

 

It was probably mean.  It was probably in poor taste. 

The problem was, she _really liked_ watching him fall to pieces at the slightest pressure; case in point, the way he backed away from her, and flopped over the railing, only barely managing to catch himself in time to jump away.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that it was Chat Noir.

Chat Noir, whose flirtatious streak was a mile wide (albeit only an inch deep), would undoubtedly be doing the exact same thing to _her_ if she hadn’t been inured to his flirting.  Frankly, even having dealt with his _unnaturally_ cheesy pickup lines for over a year now, she was pretty sure that the only reason she wasn’t falling prey to them was because she hadn’t _started_ falling prey to them.

‘ _Falling prey to them.’_ It sounded like one of them was hunting the other.

Well.  If it was a hunt, she could only hope he was enjoying getting a mouse’s perspective _._

\--

The night she’d admitted her feelings to him, he’d thought he’d had some idea what he was dealing with.

The night he’d visited for dinner, he’d thought he’d had some idea what he was dealing with.

As he gracelessly fell through his own window, he was forced to realize that, in fact, he had _no_ idea what he was dealing with.

“Claws in.”

Plagg tumbled away, and Adrien staggered as the supernatural balance left him.

He still felt her finger on his collar, and the warmth of her face that close to his was going to give him heat stroke.

He shook his head, trying to clear it, with no success.

Eyes wide like a man in shock, he managed to walk to his bed, only to fall, face-first, onto it.

He let out a sound somewhere below a shout, and somewhere above a groan, a pained acknowledgement of his internal emotional state.

Despite the burning in his face, and, for that matter, everywhere, he curled in on himself, heedless of the burning heat, and pulled his pillow in close.

For a while, he just huddled there.

Seconds passed.

There was an almost imperceptible pressure on his back, as Plagg sat down.

“Aaand he’s shaking,” said Plagg.

Adrien didn’t say anything.

“See, this is why I never go in on love,” said Plagg, “I mean, also because _why would I_ , but more to the point, I don’t get why you humans just _line up_ to deal with this.”

Adrien shuddered as a broken laugh tried to escape from him.

“I mean, seriously; you can’t think straight, you can’t walk, and I’m getting a headache just _thinking_ about what would have happened if you hadn’t managed to catch yourself on the railing.  That’s not even _mentioning_ the fact that you somehow managed to completely miss the fact that she was clearly asking for a kiss goodnight.” Adrien froze.  “Seriously, I figured you of all people wouldn’t miss that one.  I mean, I can get _oblivious_ , but I figured the hopeless romantic would balance it out.  Guess not.”

“A kiss goodnight?” came his voice, and even _he_ was surprised by how thick it was.

Plagg grumbled.  “Yeah.  I mean, what else would it have been?  The only other thing you could possibly have forgotten was your own head, and that’s stuck onto your neck.  Actually… You probably _would_ have forgotten that, even before she pulled out whatever _that_ was.”

“A kiss goodnight,” he mumbled, rolling over.

“Careful there, kid!” came Plagg’s voice, as he abandoned ship.

Adrien stared at the ceiling, only vaguely noticing Plagg floating above him.

The smile didn’t pass through any channels he was familiar with, instead just slipping onto his face.

“See, that right there,” said Plagg, “that’s the thing I don’t get.  You’re practically useless right now, and you’re somehow happy about it.”

“She wanted me to kiss her goodnight,” he said.

“Aaaand you’ve said the same thing three times in a row.”

Adrien giggled, his own finger tapping his collarbone, just where she had.  “Guess I did,” he said.

“You are an absolute disgrace,” said Plagg.

Adrien laughed.  “C’mon Plagg, don’t be like that.  Haven’t you ever been in love?”

“Cheese doesn’t flirt, a fact for which I am eternally grateful.”

“I mean _besides_ cheese,” said Adrien.

“Of course not,” said Plagg.

“Really? _”_   said Adrien.  “Billions of years old, and you’ve _never_ been in love?”

Plagg scowled, and for a long time, Adrien thought he wouldn’t respond.

Then, after a long, long time, his expression relaxed, slightly, and he sighed.

“You’ve never seen a supernova up close, have you?”  He didn’t wait for a response.  “That’s a stupid question.  Of course you haven’t.  Just… Imagine a light, the brightest you can, and make it a thousand times brighter.  It’s like…  Heh.  It feels like the space is going to pull to pieces from the force of it.”  He seemed to be remembering something, staring intently into nothing.  Then, the tension dropped.

“An entire star _exploding._   You’d _think_ it would destroy everything.  The first time it happened, I hoped it would.  And… It kind of did.  It _does_ destroy everything around it.”  He laughed, almost bitterly.  “but somehow, a massive explosion results in _planets,_ and _moons,_ and… life.  And then life results in death, and that results in life again, and…” he trailed off.  “If you want to know about being in love, that’s as good as you’re getting from me.”

There was a long pause.

Plagg seemed to consider, and then said, nodding his head side to side, “Unless we’re talking about Camembert, which, of course, overrides pretty much everything,”

Adrien stared at the kwami, even his final remark about cheese not quite enough to dispel the moment.

Plagg looked at him, and his expression hardened.  “And if you say _anything_ about that to anyone, I will personally destroy this continent, _especially_ if you say it to Ladybug, your new girlfriend, or _anyone_ who could trace it back to me.”

Adrien, who had sat up in bed as Plagg had talked, laid back.

He hadn’t expected that.  He’d expected… He hadn’t known _what_ he’d expected.

“Anyway,” said Plagg, his voice back to its normal sarcastic tone, “That’s all in the distant past.  Doesn’t really even matter anymore.  I’m _much_ more interested in how you’ve made it abundantly clear that you fall to pieces as soon as she looks at you.  How, _exactly,_ are you going to deal with the fact that you go to school with her?”

Half an hour ago, Adrien would have said that it would be easy.  Half an hour ago, he hadn’t faced the peculiar sensation of Marinette getting… Flirty.

It wasn’t fair.  He was supposed to be the dashing, charming superhero, and yet whenever he pulled out one of his most excellent lines, she would give him a ‘you’re lucky you’re cute’ kind of smile, and he would only just manage to maintain his composure.  And then tonight, maybe the third time he’d seen her as Chat Noir since the first time she’d told him she loved him, and she pulled _that_ out?  The only thing that had been missing was her ringing the bell on his collar.

She’d been asking for a kiss goodnight, and when he’d missed it, she’d seemed more _amused_ than anything.  She was _enjoying_ watching him stumble over himself.  The worst part was remembering that expression was turning his head to mush.

She didn’t know he was in her class.

He’d be constantly reminded of last night, and he wouldn’t be able to do _anything_ about it.

She couldn’t have _planned_ this to be more painful if she’d wanted to.

No.

No, this was fine.

He was Chat Noir.  He was a superhero, and he would not be done in by someone who didn’t even _know_ they were doing it.

He would hold out until he could see her again as Chat Noir, and he’d be coming back with that kiss.

She wanted to leave him a stammering, gasping mess?  He’d make sure to return the favor.

Revenge would be as sweet as her.


	2. Alya's Theory, Proven Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien feverishly tries to get ahold of himself.  
> Alya finds the scoop.  
> Marinette answers honestly.

Among other things, Alya had a nose for stories, and a knack for getting the _whole_ story.

The story, the whole story, and nothing _but_ the story.

Anyway.

The complement for her thoroughness in gathering information was an intuition for where something was missing.

In short, she knew that _something_ was missing from Marinette’s story _._

Ladybug had taken him there; that seemed sensible, at least.  Marinette was on hand, and it wasn’t exactly a secret that she’d dealt with them both on occasion.  She’d even worked with Chat Noir to take down the Evillustrator.

She could imagine Chat Noir being passable at Mecha Strike, and of course, worse than Marinette (Even when she called every shot she was about to take, Alya _still_ had no idea how she was that good).

The only place things had gone foggy was after the interview.  Marinette had explained that they’d watched 4 Times in Love, as well as Chat Noir’s reasoning (namely that he wanted something Marinette would need to explain), and that he had really liked it (Apparently, he’d even asked Marinette to thank her on his behalf).

And then…

All Marinette had said was ‘And then I went to bed,’ before moving on.

Alya had a sharp eye, and maybe Nino didn’t catch the gentle blush, but _she_ had.

She’d pressed for details, but Marinette had clammed up, in an extremely suspicious way, that nonetheless left no room for further prying.

She hadn’t said anything.

It wasn’t that Alya wasn’t curious.

It was that if Marinette knew she was watching, she’d be more careful to keep things hidden.

So Alya had watched, and looked for more hanging threads.

Gigantitan had come back, and Marinette had almost gotten badly hurt, _and yet,_ she seemed unexpectedly eager to let it be forgotten.  Eager even by Marinette’s eager-not-to-worry standards, that was.

Not even a day later, she’d mentioned something about a Sunday dinner with her family.  When she’d mentioned it, she’d seemed strangely… Preoccupied?  Alya had prodded, gently, not enough to arouse suspicions.  Marinette had tried to brush it off, but something was clearly going on.

A theory had formed in Alya’s mind.  It was ridiculous, and yet… Almost plausible.

And… When she’d come in today, Marinette had seemed… Happy, yes, but that wasn’t the _word_.  She seemed… _smug?_   Satisfied.  Satisfied with what, Alya didn’t know, but the expression was strange, for her.

She was scratching something in her notebook.

As she paused for a moment, Alya took the opportunity, while her pencil was out of the way, to look.

It looked like… A black ring?  There was a flat, blank area in the middle, and even as she looked, Marinette began penciling something in.

It was about then that Adrien walked in, and Alya resumed the hobby she’d taken up recently, in response to her theory.

_How would Marinette react?_

A second passed, and… Marinette didn’t even look up.

Fair, she hadn’t seen him yet, so-

She did a double take, as Adrien stepped up to the level his desk was on.

He was looking down, and in the single snapshot of him Alya got into her head before he turned to sit down, she thought he was tapping a finger on his leg.

He didn’t quite _collapse_ into his chair, but she got the impression he’d had trouble standing.

“Dude, you alright?” said Nino, pulling back slightly, clearly noticing his troubled manner.

“Fine,” said Adrien.

“You sure?  You seem kind of sick.  Maybe a fever.”

“No, no,” said Adrien.  He paused.  “Well… I mean, maybe, but it’s not contagious.  Trust me.”

Marinette looked up.  “Remember to drink lots of water if you’re feeling feverish,” she said.

Adrien seemed to almost choke.  “Yeah.  Lots of water.”

Alya’s eyes bounced between the two of them.

Adrien’s condition was only slightly less interesting than…

Marinette hadn’t even seemed to realize who she was talking to, her expression only showing friendly concern.

Alya looked back down at the notebook.

The blank spot on the ring wasn’t blank anymore.  There was…  a pawprint.

Alya’s eyes widened.

She’d been, maybe, 20, 25% sure in her theory, but now, she was above 60% that Marinette had somehow ended up _together with Chat Noir._

\--

He _wasn’t_ panicking.  He was handling things.

He was handling things, and absolutely _not_ terrified.

He sat through the entirety of 1st period, eyes glazed over as he tried to pull himself together.

2nd period was also a slog.

It was around 3rd period when he… stopped panicking (maybe saying he wasn’t had been a lie).

It wasn’t like she was… It wasn’t like…  Marinette wasn’t trying to mess with him now.

He was undetected.

He was undetected, and more to the point, Marinette was actually talking to him!

Maybe it was the fact that he was paying attention, but he’d never noticed her making this much actual conversation, and, in a relieving turn of events, he was over the moon about it, but not actually dying from it.  (Not that he didn’t enjoy… Dying…. Metaphorically… But it was more than a little draining)

After a few minutes of casual conversation, he was finally beginning to think that he was going to make it through this week (Of course he was.  He’d known he would!  He was Chat Noir, and he wouldn’t be defeated by blah blah blah, whatever he’d been thinking last night).

It was never going to be that easy.

“So, Marinette,” Alya practically drawled, leaning more than halfway over the table the two of them were sitting at, “You know, I’ve been wondering…”

“Alya, we’re supposed to be working on the problems,” said Marinette, not even looking up.

“We’ve got _tiime,”_ said Alya, smiling endearingly.

Marinette looked back, clearly unimpressed.

“Nino, please control your girlfriend.”

Nino laughed, turning back to face them.  “I’m pretty sure not even _Alya_ can control Alya.”

Alya shot him a dirty look, and stuck her tongue out for an instant.

“Anyway,” she said, turning back to Marinette, “I’ve heard a _rumor,_ and it’s really _relevant_ to my work on the Ladyblog.”

“And did you come up with this rumor yourself?” asked Marinette, head down, working on another question.

Alya smiled a Cheshire grin.  “I’m not sure it matters.”

Marinette sighed.  “Is this about when I looked after Chat Noir while he recovered?”

“It might be…  That depends, did you end up together then, or was it later?”

Adrien froze, and though he didn’t see it, so did Marinette.  An instant, and he hunched over his paper, trying to pretend he was deaf.

“Did I… What?”

“You heard me.  The rumor is that you’ve been seeing Chat Noir recently.”

“Alya…” Marinette sighed, “Why do you do this?”

“Because I’m an exceptionally curious person.”

“Actually, I’ve got a better question, _how_ do you do this?”

“ _I knew it,”_ whispered Alya, “It was weird, but the only thing I couldn’t justify was why you wouldn’t _tell_ us.”

“The less the public knows about a superhero, the less _Hawkmoth_ knows about them,” said Marinette, “I figured you’d want to put it on the Ladyblog.  I was just saving you the temptation.”

“Hmmm…” said Alya.

“That.  That noise is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you.”

“Mmmm,” said Alya.  “C’mon Marinette, I’m a journalist!  What’s the point if I don’t get to—” she sighed.  “Alright.  _Fine._   You were already in the tabloids as being Adrien’s secret girlfriend anyway, so who _knows_ what they’d do if they found out you were actually together with Chat Noir.”

Nino snorted.  “They’d probably assume that Adrien’s actually Chat Noir.”

Fighting the urge to freeze, Adrien tried to laugh as if it was funny. Alya laughed.  “I mean, I’ve always said he looks the part.”

“Of course, they act completely different,” said Nino.

“They do.  Actually…” said Alya, swinging back to Marinette, who, though Adrien didn’t see it, met her gaze with a long-suffering stare of her own.  “That was the other thing.  I’m kind of surprised you ended up with Chat Noir!  Didn’t you say he seemed really full of himself?  Don’t tell me you changed your mind about his, and I quote, ‘Cheesy lines.’”

Adrien looked surreptitiously back, half hoping Marinette was going to deny it.

Instead, she laughed.  “No.  No, they’re still definitely cheesy.  The puns are some of the worst I’ve ever heard, too.”

Well, that kind of stung.

“Honestly, I thought I liked him against my better judgement, at first.”

“And then?”

Marinette considered the question.  “I realized what had changed.”

Alya’s eyes glinted.  “Go on.”

“I thought that he was always like what you see on TV.  You know, always with the cheesy lines and the smirking and the… Everything.  But… After a few days, it was…” She sighed.  “Imagine Chat Noir, but if he was just another kid.  Nino, you were saying he’s nothing like Adrien, but the thing is, he’s not really that different from any of us.”

Adrien scratched his pencil on the paper as if answering a question, even though he by no means had the presence of mind to be doing it.

“Not that he was a different person, or that his jokes got better, or, anything like that, but I kind of got to see him without the mask.  I mean, even though I didn’t really see his face.”

“Huh.  Well, _that_ might actually be worth putting on the Ladyblog, as a reliable but anonymous quote, of course.  People love to know their heroes are people, too.”

Adrien cursed internally.  How did she keep doing this?  He needed to compile a list; things Marinette could do that completely threw him off.

One.  Flirting, in any degree.  Two…  The fact that she seemed to understand better than anyone, except, _maybe_ Ladybug, who he was.  And she still liked him.

The smile must have seemed inexplicable to anyone looking at him, but he couldn’t keep it off his face.

For an instant, he seriously considered turning and admitting his identity.  She needed to know that he appreciated her sentiment…

But no.

Chat Noir, of course, had heard about it via some anonymous informant.  He could thank her as Chat Noir.

The only question was whether that was before or _after_ he returned _last night’s_ favor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gave me a bit of trouble. I realized in retrospect that I didn't really articulate what changed about Chat Noir for Marinette, and that made it tricky to write an explanation. I think part of the problem is that she has her whole experience with him as Ladybug that she can't talk about, and it's most of the reason that she feels comfortable around him. (Chat Noir has kind of the same this as Adrien)


	3. Ladybug Gets Some Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Tuesday, and Chat Noir gives Ladybug the answer she was looking for, and more.

It was Tuesday, and Marinette’s sense of satisfaction over Sunday had worn off somewhat.  It wasn’t that she hadn’t enjoyed it, of course.

The issue was…

The issue was that she was overthinking it.  She _knew_ her mind came up with dire scenarios faster than she could put them down, and yet…

What if he thought that she only wanted him around so she could mess with him like that?

What if he’d decided it was too much, and he couldn’t come back?

What if…

What if she’d messed something up?

Tikki insisted that she was being irrational, but the problem with being irrational was that _knowing_ she was being irrational didn’t stop her from _being_ irrational, it just meant she kept worrying about how she _shouldn’t_ be worrying, and then worrying about _that_.

At least… At least this had only happened after she’d had some time to deal with her residual feelings towards Adrien.  Of course, there was an occasional twinge when she looked at him, but compared to a few weeks ago, he practically felt like just another one of her friends.

It was surprisingly relieving, and, of course, she could actually _talk_ to him now.

For that matter, if she’d been able to talk to him as easily before, she might have actually managed to ask him out.

Funny how that worked out.

And so, when Hawkmoth had sent out a villain, she’d been a little bit nervous to see Chat Noir, but also relieved that she’d have the chance.

There wasn’t enough damage to need a reset, which was a relief, since the villain hadn’t even merited a lucky charm.

She released the purified butterfly, and turned to see Chat Noir kneeling beside the former villain.

He straightened up and pulled her after him.

“Don’t worry, ma’am,” he said, “no harm done.”

The woman responded with the nervous nod of someone who _hopes_ they’re hearing the truth, but isn’t quite sure.  She walked away, slightly unsteady.

“Well,” said Chat Noir, “I think that’s what we call a flawless victory.”

She laughed. “I’m pretty sure you took a hit somewhere in there.”

“Well… Maybe.  Still, nobody would call it a loss.”

“No, no I don’t think they would.”

She looked over at him, trying to gauge his state of mind.  Maybe, somewhere in his expression, was something that could tell her if her anxieties were baseless.

No such luck.

“Well,” he said, “I should probably be going.  Civilian life, right?”

She laughed.  “Yeah, same here.”

For a second, neither of them moved.

“Well,” he said, “I mean, of course, I _did_ get all set up for a fight, and Hawkmoth really didn’t deliver.  I think he’s losing his edge!  Well, that or we’ve just gotten too good for him.”

She snorted.  “Let me guess, you wish you’d gotten to use your Cataclysm.”

“Of course!  If I don’t get to use Cataclysm, how will people remember that I have it?”

She rolled her eyes.

She might not have been entirely honest with Alya; Chat Noir’s demeanor had become endearing even before she’d gotten to spend 3 days straight with him.  Of course, she hadn’t been able to _say_ so, since _Marinette_ hadn’t had the _chance_ to go through enough with Chat Noir to see his, boasts, or flirting, or any of it, as a sign that things weren’t _too_ bad.

“I think they’ll remember that because they’ve _seen_ you use it about a hundred times by now.”

He grinned.  “Are you sure about that?  My kwami keeps telling me that people are blind.  Maybe they also forget things really easily.”

“I like to think not _that_ easily,” she said.  “Tell you what; how about we take a lap or two around the city, and we can check to see if anything needs disintegrated.”

He laughed.  “Sounds good to me.”

…

Ladybug had been hoping that Chat Noir would get sidetracked taking in the view, and she wasn’t disappointed.

Chat Noir hung from the side of the spire of the tallest building they’d been able to find.

Absolutely, unnecessarily dramatic.

“Enjoying the view from up there?” she said, “I don’t think it’s much better than the one down here.”

“Aw, c’mon, Ladybug,” he said, jamming his baton through the gaps in the metal, “You and I both know that the extra ten feet makes all the difference.”  He jumped up, and sat down on the baton.

“Really,” she said, a smile creeping onto her face.

“Really.”

“Well then,” she said, jumping up, “I think that means that I,” she climbed up a few feet higher, “have the better view now.”

“Oh really,” he said, “well _I_ think,” he jumped, grabbing his baton back, “that that honor _actually_ goes to-

“Me?” she said, having jumped up even as he had.

She couldn’t help a stifled laugh at his clear affront.

“Oh I see,” he said, “you’re going to be _rude_ about it.”

“Only if you make it that easy,” she said.

“Well,” he said, “I’ll have you know that _I_ am an absolute gentleman, and would never dream of doing such a dishonorable-

They bolted upwards almost simultaneously.

It was only a few quick leaps, and when it came to quick leaps, she couldn’t quite keep up with him.

“ _As_ I was saying,” he said, “such a _dishonorable_ tactic.”

He gave her a smug grin, crouched on the very top of the spire.

“Don’t make me knock you off,” she said.

“Oh, you’re planning to turn to the dark side?” he said.

“Obviously, Hawkmoth’s going to akumatize me in 5, 4, 3, 2…”

A few seconds passed.

“He’s a little late,” said Chat Noir.

“Well, you might have had a point when you said he was off his game,” said Ladybug.

“Aha.”

For a second, they stayed there, staring out across the city.

She almost wished… Almost wished he knew who she was, right now.  But, of course, she couldn’t tell him.

She tapped idly at the metal bar her hand was wrapped around.

She’d had questions she’d wanted answers to.  The only question was how…?

Seconds passed.  The sun’s color had just begun to shift; you might call it evening, now.

“Well,” she said, “I hear you          ‘ve got a… girlfriend, now.”

He chuckled.  “Now how would you hear about a thing like that?”

For a second, she almost thought she’d given herself away, but then-

“No, I’m kidding, obviously.  You know Marinette.  You wouldn’t have left me at her house in the first place if you didn’t.”  He shrugged.  “I know her, too.”

He paused, and then, after a second, smiled.  “That probably seems a bit out of the blue, to you.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well… I mean, I had a massive crush on you, for a long time.”

“Ah.”

“And then, I vanish for all of a few days, and suddenly…”

“Right.”

“I guess,” he said, “what I’m trying to say is…” he grimaced.  “I do like you.  Of course I do.  You’re amazing.  But…” he sighed.  “I really do like her, too, and I want you to know that, that I’m not doing this, trying to make you jealous, or…  Anything.  I’m doing this because…” he seemed to hesitate.  “Because she’s as amazing as you are, and if she likes me, I’d be the biggest fool the world has ever seen to turn her down.”

There was a long pause, as he stared out across the city.

“I think I just killed the conversation,” he said, finally, “I should probably head home before this gets any more awkward.”

He jumped off the top, down to the roof.

“Spot’s all yours, if you want it,” he said, making to jump away.

“Chat Noir!” she called.

He looked up, not lowering his baton.

“I just, wanted to tell you before you ran off; I know you wouldn’t play with someone’s heart for your own benefit.  I know that’s not you.”

He stared for a second, and then nodded, solemn.

“And,” she said, “For what it’s worth, it’s been ages since I’ve run a patrol, so I was going to take one on Thursday.  If you have anything else you want to say, I’d be happy to hear it, then.”

He looked down, and then back up.

“I’ll have to think about it.”

“Of course.”

And then he was gone, and Ladybug… _Marinette,_ was left alone.

After a minute, she did actually take up the top spot.

How… Strange.  Chat Noir, assuring her that he wasn’t using _her_ to make _herself_ jealous.

And how… Unexpectedly relieving.

She so rarely slept easily the night after a villain attacked, but tonight, she just might.


	4. One Secret, Long Guarded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien learns one of Marinette's most guarded secrets.
> 
> Alya's family is regularly in possession of far too much food.

Adrien was a little preoccupied on Wednesday; he’d decided later last night that he’d have to take Ladybug up on that patrol on Thursday, if for no other reason than that she needed to know that he hadn’t meant what he’d said as some sign he didn’t want to be her friend.

Of course he did, and, if he was honest, she probably already knew it, but…

Anyway.  He’d be there.

But for now, he was here, and here, he was still in awe of the fact that Marinette was a person that he knew.  She was, like, a physical entity, that he was in close proximity to, for protracted periods of time.

Well…

Not like…

Not like most people weren’t physical entities.

Most people _were_ physical entities.

…

Anyway.  Alya had convinced them that they would be doing her a favor if they came over and ate the leftovers from one of her mother’s events.

He knew that it was a long shot, but of course, if he didn’t ask, he _definitely_ wouldn’t be able to go.

Maybe 30 seconds of careful explanation, making sure to emphasize that he just wanted to eat with his friends, and that, after all, that wouldn’t hurt anyone right?

He was surprised to see Nathalie stare blankly at him in response.  That wasn’t normally how she shot his requests down.  So maybe…

“I will update your schedule accordingly.”

He stood there, a bit lost for words.

She looked back up from her tablet.  “Your father has been considering the option of making certain you are capable of running a business.  I believe he would be in agreement with me that networking is a valuable skill,” she stared directly at him.  “I recommend you avoid giving me reason to doubt that.”

He managed to meet her gaze, and nodded, swallowing.  “I will…  Avoid doing that.”

“Good.  In future, give further notice so the cook can be informed that there is no use in making a lunch for you.”

He nodded, lips pursed so he wouldn’t accidentally say anything.

Nathalie turned, and he carefully _did not_ run to meet up with his friends.  _Networking targets._   Obviously, that’s what they were; he smiled, just a little bit, as if she might be able to see it through the back of his head.

\--

Nathalie kept her face neutral.

Of course, this was exactly what Mr. Agreste had meant by that.  He hadn’t been implying some sort of formalized education.

He hadn’t…

She had plausible deniability, was the point.  Besides, it was true; Mr. Agreste almost never talked to _anyone_ outside of the house, and hadn’t actually _left_ the house since Heroes’ Day.  Back when he was establishing his business, though, he’d done quite a bit of talking, and she didn’t doubt that he still had a notebook full of contacts he could call on for just about anything.

\--

Nino rolled his eyes.  “Count on _him_ to spin it like that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Adrien, “but I’m not going to complain.  I’m just happy to be here.”

“And we’re happy to have you here,” said Marinette, following Alya as she pushed the door open.

Of course she was happy to have him here, that was how friends worked, but Adrien couldn’t help an irrational surge of happiness at hearing her say it.

He followed her in, trying not to let his expression give anything more away.

“I don’t think…” said Alya, “Hello?  Anybody home?”  She nodded.  “Didn’t think so.”

“Are you sure we’re okay to be doing this?” said Adrien.

“Trust me.  She might be surprised that food’s gone, but I guarantee she’ll be happy about it.  Seriously, you wouldn’t _believe_ how much food we have to go through in a week, just to keep up with leftovers.”

“I would,” said Marinette.

“Except for Marinette,” Alya amended, gently punching her shoulder.  “How does a baker’s daughter still have so much leftover appetite?”

Marinette laughed.  “I guess I just spend so much time running to wherever I’m going.”

“So we have your sleep schedule to thank for your contributions?”

“Pretty much.”

“Well,” said Alya, pulling the fridge open, “let’s see if we can set you up with something worth your time.  Potatoes, gravy, turkey, stuffing, rolls, and,” she squinted, “no less than 3 separate vegetable spreads.  I don’t remember who this was for, but I think they missed Christmas dinner.”

Adrien _knew_ that Alya had specifically sanctioned this, but the feeling of just… taking the food out and eating it, felt _off._

Still, when everything was laid out on the table, he couldn’t deny it looked appetizing, nor that he was hungry.

“Nino, you’re still up, could you grab some plates?”

Nino nodded, opening a cupboard.

As he distributed the plates, Alya checked her phone.

“Well,” she said, “we’ve got maybe 40 minutes before we need to head back.”

“Mhm,” said Marinette, taking a whole potato.

There were a few moments of silence as they started in on the food.

Eventually, though, Nino looked up from the large pile of vegetable matter he was rapidly consuming.

“Okay,” he said, gesturing a piece of celery at Marinette, “can I ask a bit of a random question?”

Marinette nodded, clean face and hands at odd with the fact that the potato was already half gone.

“Right, so,” said Nino, “I was talking to Alya, and she was saying she figured out the whole thing about you and Chat Noir because, like, you kept talking about stuff but wouldn’t explain, or something, right?”

Alya nodded her head, side to side.  “Pretty much what I said, yeah.”

“Like, times when it seemed like you were with Chat Noir.  Anyway, I was wondering how that’d even work?”

“What do you mean?”

Nino considered.  “Like, he can just jump around Paris whenever he likes, right?  So I guess I was wondering, like, how often you even see him.  Or, like, does he tell you when he’s coming?”

“Nino, if you’re angling for a double date with Chat Noir, you could literally just ask,” said Alya.

“What!?  N- no, that’s not what I was saying, I was just curious about-

“Oh, sorry,” said Alya, with a gleam in her eye, “I’ll remove it from the to-do list.”

Nino gave her a look halfway between gratitude and annoyance.

“Anyway,” he said, eventually, “even if that was what I was talking about, Adrien wouldn’t even be able to join in.  I wouldn’t want to leave him out.”

“That’s true!” said Alya, turning to Adrien, “you’re the only one of us who’s not together with someone.”  She sighed dramatically. “Despite our _best efforts.”_

“Your best efforts, huh?” he said.

“Haha, yeah,” said Nino, and then jumped, suddenly silent.

He looked back and forth between the three of them; Marinette had started on the turkey.

“Your best efforts how?  Why didn’t I hear about this?”

Alya laughed, “You would not _believe_ how much effort we put into setting you up, behind the scenes.”

 “With who?”

Marinette swallowed.  “That’s a secret.  She wanted to be the one to tell you about it.”

He looked her in the eye, and… Her expression was earnest.

He nodded, steadily, and pulled back.

“Well,” he said, “I’m not sure I’m in a position to go looking for anyone right now anyway, so if she still wants to tell me, you might want to warn her.”

Nino shrugged.  “Honestly, that’s—” he looked back and forth between the other two, “—alright?  I think that’s alright.”

Alya nodded, and Nino cracked off a piece of carrot.

“I guess,” said Alya, spearing a piece of turkey, “you’ll hear about it if she tells you.  Until then…” she shrugged

…

Adrien had assumed, from what they’d said, that he never _would_ get the full story.  As the minutes had wound down, he’d even decided that, really, it didn’t even matter that much.

Well, of course, there was the minor issue that whoever the mystery girl was, he probably knew her.

He almost wondered… Who did he even see often enough that…?

A mystery, to be sure, and one that he was still contemplating on the way back to school.

Alya and Nino, strolling leisurely, slowly falling behind… Surely not, they’d been together for… A _long_ time.  Too long.

“Alright,” he said, to Marinette, “I’ll admit it, I’m curious.  Obviously, I know it’s a secret, but, I just can’t keep it out of my head that someone’s had a crush on me, for a while, it sounds like.”

“Quite a while,” said Marinette.

“How long?”

“Since the start of last school year.”

“Oh.  Wow.  Someone had a crush on me for over a _year,_ and I _missed_ it?  She must have been great at hiding it.”

Marinette shook her head vehemently.  “She really wasn’t.  It was pretty much agreed that you’re just oblivious.”

“Well… If you say so, I just, I don’t know what I could possibly have missed.”

“Well… You’d be looking for a girl who could barely talk around you,” she said, “definitely couldn’t keep her words straight.  Kept acting weird.”

He considered it, and nodded his head side to side, slowly.  “Actually, that sounds a lot like-“

He kept walking, and felt his face _very slowly_ go red.

Barely turning his head, he looked at her from the corner of his eyes.

She returned the look, and very deliberately turned her head forward again.

“I see,” he said.

She nodded.  “And it only took me more than a year to imply it hard enough that you noticed.”

“And it only took me more than a year to notice it,” he finished.  “Well… That’s… Kind of awkward.”

Marinette seemed to consider it.  “I don’t know about that.  I think this is one of the least awkward conversations I’ve ever had with you.”

He looked down, “doesn’t speak well for the rest of them,” he said.

She shook her head, then, after a second, turned him a smile.  “Still, you won’t have to worry about it, and you were just saying you weren’t really looking for anyone.”

He blinked.

He wasn’t looking, was he.

The grin spread across his face.

Marinette had just told him that she didn’t have a crush on him, _when she absolutely did_ , if she only knew it.  The person she’d let go of her crush for, was _him,_ the person it had been on in the first place.  She’d traded 6 of one for a half-dozen of the other.

Oh…  Imagine her reaction if he detransformed in front of her on Friday.

He bit the inside of his lip, and forced the impulse down.

He was going to have to _imagine_ her reaction, and leave it at that.  After all, however much he would have killed for the extra firepower in throwing her off, he still had a duty to uphold.

“Well,” he said, “I think you’re right.  Everything should be _just fine._   You feel free to tell Chat Noir I’m _glad_ to respect your choices.”

“Well, I never actually told him about it,” she said, “Well… Except in the vaguest of terms.”

And now… Oh, this was perfect.  Of all the people in the world, he’d had the immense luck to be Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s top two choices.

Better yet, he now knew exactly how she stammered when she was flustered.


	5. Evening On Patrol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chat Noir shows up on Thursday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure you're all very surprised by this.  
> Chat Noir showing up?  
> Unheard of.

She stood, fingers tapping at her side.

She’d said she was here to run a patrol, but… Really, she knew she was here to wait.

She sighed, and leaped.

It wasn’t like she really needed to do this, anyway.  She didn’t feel like she needed to tell him anything special, and he… He seemed to have said what he wanted to, right?

So why…?

Well… Part of it was obviously that she wanted to see him again.  She knew little enough about his civilian life, but it was enough to know that he was _busy;_ he’d barely made it to the dinner her father had invited him to, and it was pretty obvious from how much he loved being Chat Noir, that there had to be a pretty good reason he was barely sighted when there wasn’t an active Akuma.

Really, the only other sightings even _she_ knew about were the occasional patrols (which, even then, had been rare) and the events that _both_ of them had been invited to.

So, of course, she couldn’t help wanting to see him during the week, and it wasn’t like she was _forcing_ him to see her.  He’d only show up if he actually _felt_ like it, in which case clearly it wasn’t too much of an-

“Evening, Ladybug.”

She almost missed her next foothold, and fell into the streets below.

After she’d managed to recover control of her words and feet, she gave him a sharp look.

“I swear, Chat Noir, that bell does _nothing.”_

“Well, what would be the point of being stealthy if a bell would ruin it?”

“The _real_ question is, what’s the point of you being stealthy at all?  It’s not like you even sneak!”

“I protest!  I sneak around just as often as you do!”

“Yeah, _as often as_.  I sneak around just as much as you, and don’t feel the need to wear a catsuit.”

“I mean… I’m pretty sure that ‘catsuit’ was locked in the second I put on the ring.”

“Well…  I mean, I suppose, but there’s ‘cat suit’, and then there ‘catsuit.’  It’s tacky, isn’t it?  If I’d been in your shoes…” she looked down at herself, “Well, I guess I’d probably have done worse, but the point is, if I’d gotten the chance to _plan_ your suit, I would have pulled back at least a little on the black leather, and at least added some green accents.”

“Aha!” he said, “but you _didn’t!”_

There was a moment of silence.

“No, I mean, how would I have even had the chance?”

“…Right.”

They kept moving.

“So…” she said, eventually, “did you, um… Did you, think of anything you forgot to say?”

“I… No.  No, I didn’t.  You?”

She laughed, almost nervously.  “Not really, no.”

They landed, and she ran a few paces, and stopped.

“I just wanted to make sure you had the chance to say everything you wanted to.”

He came to a halt, skidding slightly.

“Well… I did.”

She sat down on the edge of the roof, legs dangling over the edge.

He sat down too, a few feet away.

There was a long silence.

“You know, for this being your idea, and you being the one who had the crush, this sure is awkward.”

He laughed.  “I know what you mean.  It feels like I need to take a few days for things to calm down, even though… You know, there’s nothing to calm down _from._ ”

They sat there in silence for what felt like a long time.

“So,” she said, eventually, “Marinette, huh.”

“Yup.”

“I’m kind of surprised, if I’m honest.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… Not about her, but that you liked me for so long, and then it only took… 3 days?”

“I still like you.  You know that.  And as for Marinette… Well.  I guess… I kind of already liked _her._   I just… I guess I was too focused on you to notice it.”

Ladybug restrained a laugh, because _she_ knew something he didn’t.

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“I mean… It’s not the craziest thing I’ve ever heard, it just struck me as odd.”

“Why?”

“The thing is…” she chuckled, and shook her head.  “Don’t worry about it.”

“No, no, I’m curious now.”

“It’s…” she said, “something about it being… _Marinette,_ of all people, just strikes me as strange.”

“What do you mean?  Maybe you don’t know, but, um…  I’ve actually heard a few people compare her to you.”

“I guess…” she said.

“Do you… Not think she’s… _Worth it?_   Or…  What?”

“Well…” she said, and then…  She really shouldn’t.  She really shouldn’t, but-  “Why _do_ you like her?”

He laughed, and gave her a disbelieving look.  “You’ve _met_ her, haven’t you?”

“I know her pretty well, yeah, but I’m asking _you.”_

He gave her a steady look.  _“Well..._   The first thing I noticed was the fact that she’s not easily impressed.  I’m used to people being kind of… Well, you’re a superhero too, you know how some people act.  Marinette doesn’t.”

“I would have thought you _liked_ people being impressed by you.”

“I mean… I enjoy people being glad to see me, and I like being respected, but…” he sighed, “I guess there’s a difference between a crowd cheering your name, and someone fawning over you just because of who you are.  She falls on the right side of it.”

“Ah.”

“I think it’s the same thing that makes her stand up for people.  She knows that when it comes down to it, people are just… people.  She’s not afraid to stand up to people, because… She knows that she can take it.  And she knows that someone has to.”

Ladybug stared out at the city.

That was… _Well._

But he wasn’t done.

“And, of course,” he continued, laughing, “that’s not even mentioning the fact that she was willing to keep an eye on me for three straight days, when she had no idea who I was except for meeting me once or twice.  Imagine that, right?  I’d have to be an idiot to not at least _appreciate_ what she did, all else aside.”

She could… Yeah, that made, sense.

“And-“ he coughed, “well, I can’t really talk about that, since it’s about my secret identity.  Suffice to say, I’ve seen more of her than I can talk about without risking you figuring out who I am.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to do that,” she said. _Even though she really wanted to._

There was a long silence.

Chat Noir snorted.  “Plus, she can annihilate me at Mecha Strike.  I always thought I was good at it, but _apparently not._ ”

“And that’s something you look for in a girl?” she said,

He shrugged.  “It’s fun watching her be good at what she does.  Mecha Strike, and, obviously, she’s an aspiring fashion designer.  Aspiring’s putting it mildly, too; her designs are incredible!”

 _Very kind of him,_ but since he probably didn’t have any background in fashion, it was probably just his best guess, so that wasn’t anything to get-

“And that’s just some of the big stuff.  Like, her choice in friends?  Did I _tell_ you about Four Times in Love?  I maintain that anyone the connections to get a show like that must be doing _something_ right.  And the way her nose crinkles when she’s concentrating, and also, she can apparently cook, which I guess makes sense for a baker’s daughter, but I’ve never eaten something that _good_ , and her _hair,_ which is _adorable,_ and yes, I know you have the same hair, and the way she giggles when she’s _really_ tired _,_ and…” he laughed, “and the fact that she’s utterly _merciless.”_

Her face had been steadily reddening as the words had kept flowing out, but she snapped to look at the last one.

“Merciless?  Chat Noir are you… Okay?”

“Ah…  No?”  He laughed, scratching the back of his neck.  “No, no, I’m fine, just…  She’s good at knocking me off balance, that’s all.  Cats don’t always land on their feet with Marinette around.”

 _‘How,’_ she wanted to ask, but… She knew the answer already.

Instead.

“Wwwell,” she said, eventually, “I wasn’t expecting you to have brought the laundry list.”

He shrugged.  “That’s just what I’ve got off the top of my head.”

 _Just off the top of his head._ “Chat Noir, if you keep _saying_ stuff like that…”

“What?”

“Uhhh…” she couldn’t exactly say ‘because I’m blushing now, and that’s not safe for my identity,’ could she.  “Nevermind, it’s fine, just an idle thought.”

He laughed.  “I get those all the time.”

“Please, we both know you haven’t had a thought in your life.  Your head is full of puns and nothing else.”

“Absolutely _not!_   I have not said a pun this whole time!”

“Exactly, which is why you have been entirely silent this whole time.”

“Ah.  I see.”  He turned away, and, in a stage whisper, said, “She can’t hear a thing I say unless it’s a pun!  This is my chance to say whatever I want!”

She’d kind of gotten herself into this one, hadn’t she...

Well, let it never be said Ladybug didn’t follow through.

“He hasn’t said a pun all night.  I wonder if he’s okay,” she said, as if to the world at large.

“My secret identity is Chloe Bourgeois!” he said.

There was a second of silence.

And then, Ladybug almost fell off the building laughing.


	6. With Interest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette discovers that Chat Noir has taken her family's morals to heart on the topic of challenges, and the importance of following through on them.

It was coming on to 10pm.  Friday evening.

Marinette should probably technically have been catching up on sleep, but…

Well, she had a project going, and she wasn’t going to stop just for some _clock._

She’d gotten through material selection, piece cutting, three separate revisions of the design.  Now, finally, she gotten to the part where she got to put the pieces together.  It was the part where the prep really felt like it had paid off.

And then…

There was a knock, and she froze.

A smile slowly spread across her face.

She put down her needle, and stood up.

She nodded gently at Tikki, who quickly slipped behind the monitor, out of view on anyone who might happen to look in.

She stood up, and stretched out.  She climbed up her bed, and pushed the door up.

She stuck her head out, and blinked.

The balcony was vacant.

She looked around, suddenly uncertain.

There _had_ been a sound, right?  She hadn’t made that up?

No, Tikki had heard it too.  Had something-

Wait.

She could just make out something at the edge of the table.

She climbed up, and…

A piece of paper, weighted down by the flower pot.

Her heart sank slightly.

He’d seemed happy yesterday.  Had something changed?  What was so difficult to say out loud that he preferred to leave it in writing?

She took a deep breath, and picked up the paper.

_‘Marinette,_

_Sorry for leaving this as a note.  You’ll understand why in a bit, but hopefully by then it’ll be too late to do anything about it.’_

She blinked.  “Too late to..”

_‘The problem is, I know when I’m outmatched.  I claim to be a master of all things dashing and debonair, but you’ve got a knack for knocking me entirely off balance._

_That problem, by the way, is_ yours, _because I don’t take a challenge lightly, a trait I may have picked up playing Mecha Strike with you._

_So, that said, let me just say that while it took me a bit longer than it should have to figure out what I forgot last Sunday, I did eventually figure it out, and-_

“I will, of course, be happy to make up for lost time!?” She exclaimed, staring at the paper.

“That is,” whispered Chat Noir in her ear, “if you don’t have any objections.”

She froze, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end.  She hadn’t heard _anything,_ and now, he was directly behind her, and her fight or flight reaction was screaming at her to _do_ something.

With a physical effort, she let her shoulders fall.

“Well…” she said, turning slowly and deliberately; her shoulder brushed slightly against his chest, her face mere inches from his. “That depends entirely,” she said, expression carefully composed into a soft smile, almost as relaxed as the easy grin he was wearing, “on what _exactly_ you think you forgot.”  _This was Chat Noir.  She knew his tricks, and all she had to do was not get flustered._

_Easier said than done._

_“Well how about this,”_ he said, leaning even closer, “ _let me know if I’m getting close.”_

She swallowed, face still almost unaffected, but the muscles in the back of her neck tensed tight enough they were gently shaking.

“You, certainly are, getting very close to me,” she said.

“Mmm,” he said, the sound half acknowledgement, half contemplative, “I certainly am.  The real question is where I’m too close, or not close _enough_.”

Marinette’s brain was firing off a string of unprintable cursing.

_Was he going to make her say this out loud?_

“I think you know,” she managed, unable to tell if she was even closer to him because he’d moved, or because _she_ had.

“Oh, so do I,” he said, a finger trailing up her arm, and tapping gently on her collarbone, _how dare he, that was exactly what she’d done last time, that was-_ “but imagine how awkward it would be if I was wrong…”

She could feel her composure cracking.

 _He really didn’t take defeat lightly._ He’d even pulled a sneak attack.

She’d… Lost?

“I’ll get you back for this,” she whispered, and his smile widened slightly.

“I look forward to watching you _try.”_

She scrunched her eyes shut, and, opening them, took a breath.

"Not _close enough.”_

“I thought so,” he said, closing the distance.

…

Seconds passed.  They could have been minutes for all Marinette had known.

She wasn’t sure whether she was breathing, or suffocating.  She could have been dying, for all she knew.  She didn’t really care.

...

Finally, after a span of time she couldn’t quantify, Chat Noir pulled back.

She stared upwards, breathing unsteady, and…  That sly cat, he’d pulled her into a _dip_.  He was practically _bowing,_ one arm around her waist, the other behind her neck.

And… Well, no, of _course_ she’d wrapped her arms around him, _some_ part of her mind must have had the presence to think it was falling.

She looked up at him, and…

His expression wasn’t disheveled like she was sure her own was, but it was… a smile soft enough to make her die, and… again, she cursed internally, because the word for that expression was _adoration,_ and it had never been focused on her like that before, and she was pretty sure that this was what death felt like, and-

She closed her eyes, unable to take the sensation of seeing his face any longer.

“ _Ah- Marinette?”_   he said.

She opened her eyes again, and the expression had been replaced by one of concern.

“Oh,” he said, “Sorry.  I thought you’d fainted.”

She laughed, the sound coming out as little more than a breath.  “Don’t tempt me.”

His voice was shaking with what sounded like laughter, now.  “What if I _want_ to tempt you?”

“Then,” she said, the laughter rapidly becoming contagious, “I would point out that your face looks about as red as mine, and that if _you_ faint, we’re _both_ going to get concussed.”

“Are you saying it wouldn’t be worth it?” he said, leaning down again.

_He really was keeping his composure this time._

“I’ll say…” she said, “you make me _consider_ it before I say no.”

He gave her a jokingly disappointed look.

He sighed.  “ _Fine,_ ” said, in what was clearly his best impression of exasperation, “out of respect for your well-being,” he pulled her upright, “I’ll save the kissing you until one of us faints for a time when we don’t have to worry about your skull’s security.  How’s that?”

“That’ll be just fine,” she said, taking advantage of gravity not being against her to pull herself directly up against him, letting her head rest on his chest.

There was a long moment of silence.

“So,” she said, eventually, “did you have a plan for your visit past this point, or were you thinking you’d just show up, incapacitate me, and leave again?”

“Well,” he said, “when you put it like that, it does seem a little short.”

They stood there, so close she could feel his heartbeat, for a while.

"I'll have you know I was working on a project," she said, eventually.

He stepped gently back, and she let him.

“Alright, then,” he said, “just find me a ball of yarn to play with, and I’m sure I can keep myself entertained for a while, while you work on it.”

She snorted.

“I’m sure,” she said, stepping to the ladder, “just tell me what color you want it in.”

“Well,” he said, stepping after her, “normally I’d want it in green, but,” to someone standing up on the balcony, his voice would have faded into oblivion, “if I get to be around you, the color doesn’t matter in the slightest.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now, I think, I can put this plotline to rest.  
> Thank you all for reading, and I hope you've enjoyed the experience.  
> This is the part where I usually suggest another of my other works that you might like if this was to your taste. I'd suggest 'Frozer: Alternate ending', at least to those of you who didn't see me recommend it at the end of the previous fic. Speaking of which, if you've come in in the middle of things, you could always go back and read the first part, 'The Medusa Challenge'.
> 
> However, if you've been with this series from the first part, I'd recommend 'Seven Minutes in... Combat?' A comedy of errors featuring Alya drawing some eyebrow raising assumptions after seeing Marinette and Adrien seemingly spend seven minutes in the same single-person bathroom.


End file.
